


Rogues under your roof

by temarcia



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Female Reader, Love Triangles, Multi, Reader-Insert, Scriddler, Sexual Content, Smut, Spanking, batman rogues - Freeform, treesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:34:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26068069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/temarcia/pseuds/temarcia
Summary: They can judge us all they want but which girl hasn't dreamed of having a criminal romance at least once?For all those who have, here's my little collection of Gotham Rogues x Reader/You drabbles, staring our favourite Batman villains. Check it out and you might find it quite entertaining.
Relationships: Edward Nygma/Reader, Edward Nygma/You, Harvey Dent/Reader, Harvey Dent/You, Jonathan Crane/Reader, Jonathan Crane/You, Riddler/Reader, Two-Face/You
Comments: 19
Kudos: 85





	1. All work - Riddler

Some men like to bring their work home, Edward Nigma goes a step further, he brings his work into his bed.

Cocking your head, you watch him leaning comfortably against a pile of black and green pillows, with his laptop resting on the top of him. Tap, tap tap – his fingers dance across the keyboard, you can see another line of a program, a combination of small, green letters and numbers appear on his computer screen. You don’t understand a thing and you don’t even try to ask. Knowing Riddler, he’s working on something malicious – something not meant for you but for Batman.

This thought gives you a thrill, being here with him, watching his new, deadly idea coming to life in the quiet refuge of the bedroom – it sure is exciting, you can’t deny it. Quirky as he can be, Edward is still the sharpest man you’ve ever met in your entire life.

You lick your lips, and oh, you’re in the mood now but he won’t pay you any attention when he’s busy working. Your hand travels lazily along the curve of your hip as if you didn’t know how smooth your exposed skin is. Not much is covering your body at the moment, just your old panties, and the green T-shirt he gave you – not without some complaints about how unhygienic it is to borrow someone’s clothes. Any other man would most likely prefer to ogle you instead of staring at the computer screen. Not him. And it’s frustrating, and at the same time, it only makes you want him more.

He doesn’t even notice as you shift your position to get your body lower on the bed.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” He only reacts when he feels your hand touching his knee.

“Don’t mind me, sweetie,” you make it sound innocent but your unruly hands are already climbing up from his knee to his thigh, your palms caressing his pale, paper-thin skin.

You catch a glimpse of suspicion on his face, it is as if he doesn’t trust you. Well, he might be right not to trust you because you didn’t even start yet, which he soon finds out as your right hand presses lightly against the fabric of his navy blue boxers.

He immediately reaches to stop you right there.

“No-no, my dear, we don’t have the time for that now. Also, is that how you think a lady behaves?” He scolds you lightheartedly and there is a hint of cheerfulness in his soft, boyish voice.

“Who says I’m one?” You grin at him. He holds your hand with his, his touch so warm and nice.

“I do, ma chérie,” he says with a tone that knows no objections. It makes you blush a little, he can be so damn charming when he wants to. His French accent, his confidence, you’re falling for this smooth-talker all over again. He almost makes you forget that he really is a selfish, arrogant man-child. He reminds you of that fact as he opens his mouth again. “I’m not some mobster or a low-class criminal, you know. I’m the Riddler – Gotham’s greatest super-villain and Batman’s true archenemy. I want a woman with class around me.”

So much for his charm, you muse, but oh, you will show him some class…

“Forgive me, Mr. Riddler, I thought a super-villain of your rank can easily take some teasing while still working on his master plan. For a mind like yours, a little distraction shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“Are you challenging me?” He raises an eyebrow, probably not believing how impertinent you have become those days. Yet, he lets go of your hand, giving you a chance to stroke the side of his thigh with your fingertips.

“I’m no challenge for you,” you lower your eyes submissively, moving your flushed cheek closer to his leg, making him feel your heat.

You place a gentle kiss on his warm, delicate skin, lips brushing lovingly against a softness of his inner thigh. You can hear him stop typing, and it is not what you wanted “Keep working, Eddie,” you command him softly, your hot breath tickling his bare skin. “I don’t want to distract my favorite genius. I’ll do my thing, and you do yours.”

“I am the only REAL genius in this town,” he tries to correct you but he’s cut off by the sensation of your tongue on his lower body, dangerously close to his private parts poorly covered by thin fabric.

“Yes, you are…” you let out a murmur, doing your best to hide your amusement. “I don’t hear you typing, Mr. Genius,” you point out, waiting for him to concentrate on his task again.

He does, and you give him a little break before your eager fingers are on him once more. Carefully, you slide one of your fingernails across the bulge in his boxers, making your touch last for only a split second. Then, you repeat the treatment and observing with joy, how he’s getting harder with your every stroke.

He thinks you’re his plaything, and maybe you are but why not to play with him in return?

You cast him an inquiring glance, he’s looking at the screen but you can see his cheeks getting redder with anticipation.

“Do you want to bet which one of us will finish first?”

He seemed surprised, his eyes on you once more. “Hm? What are you suggesting?”

“If you can complete your project, you win. But…” You shoot him your best, sexy smile. “If I finish you off first, the victory is mine.”

He chuckles under his breath, genuinely amused. “Silly minx, either way, I win.”

“So, I take it for your agreement then.” You let your tongue run across your upper lip suggestively. “But if I win, you’re buying me that red mustang I’ve always wanted.”

“We have a deal, my love. Not like you stand the chance, of course.” He’s radiating self-confidence and it turns you on. “But if you somehow, by some stroke of luck, manage to succeed, keep in mind that the mustang will be green since I’d be the one paying for it.”


	2. Not too rough - Scarecrow

Thick canvas fabric is a little rough against your skin, it makes you feel ticklish but except that the dress fits you well – so well, that it had to be made especially for you – and you can see it was made with care.

The way it was sewed – carefully, all stitches kept even – makes you think of his steady hands, of his long, slender fingers. You bite your lower lip, a habit of yours when you think about him. Jonathan is such a talented man, you muse with awe.

You know he's waiting there for you, waiting perhaps a bit too long, but you want to look perfect for him, in this dress he gave you. And you have to admit, you do look good. A corset shaping your waist and highlighting your breasts, with a cleavage wide enough to catch a preying eye. His eye. You let your own hands slide up your body, cupping your breasts just to try it. You glance at your reflection in the large bathroom mirror. You look so erotic in this outfit. Was it really designed to scare people?

Turning around, you check your butt in the mirror. Thankfully, the dress fits there as well. There is no way it is just a coincidence. No one else had it on before you, you just know that – and you feel so proud that you're allowed to be a part of Jon's fantasy. You will be his beloved Mistress of Fear that he had never had.

A soft but sudden knock on the door snaps you out of your dreamy thoughts. Before you can react, Jonathan already cracks the door open. Seeing you in the dress makes him stop for a moment. You can feel his chilling gaze on you, admiring the shape of your body, exploring every and each curve as if you were his handwork – just like the costume he sewed for you.

Not waiting for your invitation, he steps into the bathroom and you can't protest – it is his place after all. You turn to the mirror, pretending to ignore him; but you can't help but notice that his shirt is missing and so are his glasses. His exposed skin looks porcelain-white in this light.

Your eyes meet his in the mirror as he approaches you from behind.

“You look good,” he tells you, his voice a bit dry but his piercing blue eyes staring right at your reflection.

You smile at him, not letting your eyes leave his face. “I know.” You hope he doesn't mind such cockiness from you but this outfit – it makes you feel confident. As Mistress you are so powerful, so strong – almost as if you aren't yourself anymore.

He can probably sense the change in you, his hand reaches for your hip and rests on it with no pressure.

“We will make a perfect couple,” he whispers tenderly, still looking at the reflection of the two of you together. His hand starts to slowly climb up your waist, his touch so light that you almost think he's embarrassed. He was never shy with you before but this outfit – for him it must be something special. He leans down to you, eyes closed and he inhales the scent of your freshly washed hair. “Master and Mistress of Fear...” he hums, his face hidden in your hair.

You can feel his breath, sense his lips so close to your neck. Your pulse increases rapidly and you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat.

You don't know when his other hand joins his right, holding you gently from both sides. His large palms, much longer than your own, are placed right below the line of your breasts – practically cupping them, but not quite. You can see yourself blushing as his narrow lips find their way to the side of your neck, brushing against your skin briefly. You can't deny, you're getting excited but Jon is in the mood for taking it slow.

You tilt your head, encouraging him to plant another kiss on your neck, to suck on your sensitive skin longer and harder but just as you do that, his hands suddenly grab your canvas bra, tugging roughly at the fabric and forcing the straps to snap.

A shocked gasp escapes your lips. It brings a wicked smirk on Scarecrow's face. He cups your exposed breasts, squeezing them lightly and watching your reaction in the mirror. Your nipples are erected, there is no way you can hide your obvious arousal from him, or from yourself. It is almost as if he is showing it to you – showing what he does to you and how good he is at this.

His thumbs start to make small circles around your nipples as he holds your breasts. You bite your lips again, bite harder this time. His teasing drives you crazy.

He plays with your breasts with such delicacy that it is nearly too much to bear. Your stone-hard nipples are begging to be pinched, pinch so hard that it would make you moan in pleasure and pain. Your body shivers at the idea of him going rough on you, you want him to squeeze your tits, to push you on a counter and take you from behind with a quick, forceful thrust.

“Would you join me in the bedroom, Mistress?” His calm, silky voice pierces through your dirty thoughts like a needle. Your mind is cloudy and you can't bring yourself to a verbal reply.

You nod and he can see it in the mirror.

“I'm glad,” he nods back at you – his Mistress – and leads you by hand to the place of worship.


	3. Make it three - Two-Face

The coin was generous to you tonight, it gave you both Harvey and Big Harv all for yourself, without the need of sharing. It was quite a rare occasion that they both agreed to spent the date-night with the same woman but the coin decided on it and there was no arguing with that – the coin was always fair, always right.

You were ready before eight, dressed up in black and white so neither of them would feel neglected. You grabbed your coat and went outside waiting for the driver to pick you up from your place. A silver Rolls-Royce was there on time, you knew both the car and the shady driver behind the wheel and you felt perfectly safe to let the man take you to wherever Two-Face wanted you to be.

The hotel room was nothing but fancy, you took a quick glance at a spectacular interior, admiring the minimalistic design.

“Good evening, my sweet,” Two-Face greeted you at the door, he was dressed in his new shirt with zebra-like stripes on the left side and an elegant pattern of dark-blue rectangles on the right side. With his hair slicked back, he looked exceptionally handsome and you couldn't take your eyes off him.

He took your coat and invited you in, you could swear it was Harvey's personality acting right now. Harv was never this polite to you. Nevertheless, you felt like it was safest addressing them both.

“You sure know how to impress a woman, boys.”

“Oh, it's just me tonight,” Harvey assured you but with a man like Two-Face, one could never be sure.

“Can I get you something to drink?” He asked as you both passed by the open kitchen area of his spacious apartment. “Red wine? White wine? Whiskey? Cognac?”

“I will have a glass of red wine,” you graced him with a charming smile and watched him reaching for a bottle.

“Are you sure?” He hesitated before opening it.

“Yes, baby, I know what I want. Thank you.”

He handed you the glass with your wine and smiled at you apologetically. “I'm sorry, sugar. Sometimes I get jealous of you. You don't need a coin to make your decisions.”

“Don't be so gloomy, handsome.” You touched his face – Harvey's face. “You only want to do the right thing.” You caressed him gently and he looked at you with care. “Besides, I'm already grateful to your coin for tonight.”

Harvey leaned in, led by your hand, and went in for a gentle kiss. And the very moment his lips, soft on the one side but rough and misshaped on the other touched yours, you already could tell that the two, or rather three, of you, are heading straight to the bedroom tonight.

Soon enough, Mr ex-district attorney was sitting on the edge of a king-size bed, his legs kept wide, his right palm smoothing over the black, satin bed sheet. You stood in front of him, slowly unzipping your half-black, half-white cocktail dress. Harvey's dark eye followed your every move, hungry to see more of your skin.

As the dress fell to the carpet Harvey cocked his right eyebrow. Then, after a second of surprise, his gaze darkened a little.

“I always took you for the modest one,” he mused, you noticed that there was something dangerous creeping through his polite tone of voice. “But I see you are rather naughty.” He nodded toward you and you realized he was referring to your choice of undergarments.

The truth was, you hadn't had the slightest idea which one of his personalities you'd be dealing with. Harvey Dent preferred to keep it all vanilla sweet most of the time, Big Harv, on the other hand, liked his girls to be shameless – you just didn’t own the right lingerie to please them both. Perhaps going for a black, transparent bodysuit was too bold of a decision for Dent's liking?

You faltered as he outstretched his hand, waiting for you to take it. You had a feeling that something bad was about to happen.

Slowly, you reached for his hand but he grabbed you by the wrist harder than expected. You gasped when he pulled you close to himself.

“Naughty girls like you deserve to be punished.”

For a moment you thought it was Harv taking control and you anticipated nothing but a rough treatment from that unstable sadist. But when you dared to look down at Two-Face, you saw something more than just anger in his eyes.

“Harvey?” You asked as he wouldn't let go. “What are you do...” You didn't finish as he pulled you forcefully onto his laps, swiftly placing you in the most vulnerable position on your stomach, with your head low and your backsides exposed.

“You said it yourself,” you heard him speak, his voice calm but heavy with a mixture of lust and deep-rooted hatred, “I want to do what is right, and punishing the wrong-doers, including spoiled, promiscuous girls like yourself, is the only way to help this city. You will learn the hard way, how a modest woman behaves and dresses.”

You didn't get to protest when his opened palm fell on your soft backsides, hitting you hard. You yelped in surprised and pain, the sound of a 'slap' still echoed in your ears.

“I'm gonna teach you a lesson, sweetie,” he hissed and slapped your butt again, this time even harder than before.

You bit your lips, holding back the yelp. Harvey was apparently up to spank you and you couldn't wriggle out of his iron grip. Your butt-cheeks began to itch, your delicate skin irritated by this treatment. You turned your head to the left, to see your reflection in the mirror placed in front of the bed. Your butt got red already but as he hit you again and you observed the whole thing in the mirror, you experienced more than just pain this time. The position you were in made you feel so powerless, so deeply dependent, yet, you didn't fear that – you wanted to let go and let Harvey do whatever he pleased with you tonight.

You parted your legs a little wider, at least as much as the position allowed you to. With each slap, you concentrated more and more on how your whole body vibrated after a hit. These sweet vibrations were doing wonders for you, and soon your gasps became less pained and more erotic.

Harvey sensed that change, he stopped. You could see his hand held up, and you waited for it to fall – wanted for it to fall.

A dark, unpleasant chuckle caused your skin to crawl.

“...naughty, naughty...,” Big Harv rasped, staring at you maliciously with his one, round eye. “Are you having fun yet?”

It was not a real question, he knew damn well you were – he could see how aroused you had gotten.

“Where's Harvey?” You breathed out, trying to hide the wetness between your legs. You were afraid your vulnerability would trigger something violent in Harv, and that he was going to hurt you.

You gasped when he touched you, stroking your butt lightly, making your body shiver in delight.

“Don't worry, missy, I'll take good care of you.”

You didn't trust him but... your pleasure was worth the risk.


	4. Their fair share - Riddler&Scarecrow

“Keep your bony hands to yourself, Crane,” Riddler hisses like an angry cat, pulling you violently toward himself and further from Scarecrow’s outstretched hand.

You already had a chance to take a good look at the infamous fear-gauntlet with all the scary needles dripping of fear toxin, and you’re quite thankful, and quite frankly surprised that Edward Nigma came to your rescue. Or did he?

“I saw her first,” he continues, still pulling you by the arm as if you were his property. “I need her for my next riddle-room. You can’t just threaten my future hostage with your lousy knock-off of Joker’s laughing gas.”

Oh, The Riddler shouldn’t have said that – you can immediately see Doctor Crane’s eyes harden at this insult. You’d probably find it funny, how touchy those villains could be, but you’re not exactly in the position to make fun of them.

Scarecrow takes a step closer to both you and Riddler. “My invention is a work of an expert chemist, supported by years of research – and not a lucky coincidence caused by a madman randomly playing with chemicals.” His voice is low and very very calm, and it scares you a lot more than if he was angry. His tall, bony frame is just a step away from you. You can’t help but stare into his cold, blue eyes as he looms over you – mask-less and shirtless, yet menacing. “Your little friend here..,” he nods toward you and you feel the chills creeping down your spine, “was about to experience the beauty of my creation first-handed. She will make an excellent specimen for my newest experiment. So, thank you for bringing her here, Edward. You can start looking for a new hostage elsewhere.”

The fear-doctor reaches for you again, and you feel so helpless, so hypnotized by his soothing voice, his soul-piercing gaze, that you reach back at him with your own hand without even noticing.

“No!” You hear Riddler protesting and pulling at your left arm as if to wake you up from this trance. “No no no! I don’t want any other hostage! She is the perfect one! Her body weight is just right to balance the other one on the lever of my carefully crafted contraption!”

Scarecrow ignores all these arguments and takes another step forward, forcing Riddler to step back, pulling you with him. The two of you can only go backward for the next three steps and then the brick wall stops you from any further retreat.

A needle is suddenly right in front of your face as Doctor Crane leans toward you to stroke your cheek with it. Your eyes go wide as the itching sensation of a sharp object against your sensitive skin hits you with all the implications. You’re going to get drugged with a fear toxin and suffer your worst nightmares, and nothing, absolutely nothing can save you!

You squeeze your eyelids tight, awaiting the inevitable. Oh, it was such a mistake to come to the Lounge tonight!

Then, there is a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist. “Don’t be scared, you fool,” Edward breathes into your ear, his words are hasty and surprisingly soft, even though he just insulted you. “He feeds on your fear. Don’t give him the satisfaction,” he whispers and his hot breath tickles the skin on your neck. You dare to reopen your eyes, gaining some sort of comfort from these words. Or maybe that is because he holds you so tight and so close to his own body?

You muster some courage, just like Riddler advised you, and look up to Crane, just to catch a glimpse of amusement dancing upon his sharp-featured face. The Master of Fear is playing with you two – you realize it just now. It is not about injecting you with the toxin, it is about proving something to Edward Nigma.

“Don’t listen to him, child,” Scarecrow leans down to you, his pale face right next to yours. The hand, armed with needles, that was previously on your cheek, now moved to cup your chin, making you stare into his vibrant eyes. “Fear is stronger than the logic that Edward provides you with. He can’t protect you from yourself, he can’t even stop me from doing this…”

It shocks you when he presses his lips against yours in a movement faster than a bullet. Your body instinctively wants to jerk away but his hand keeps your face in place, and besides – there is another body behind you. Scarecrow’s grip is firm on your jaw, his lips are thin and they feel rough, but the kiss is gentle – only slightly demanding. After a second, you learn to enjoy it.

You can feel Riddler’s arms around you tightening their grip. You don’t have to look, to know that Edward is frustrated, his whole body pressing harder against yours.

“That’s cheating…” You can hear him hiss and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or to Crane. “You cheated!” He is furious, his muscles tense and shaking. “But don’t you think I can’t play this game.”

You can’t conceal a gasp of surprise as the second pair of lips touch your skin, this time brushing against the back of your neck, causing you to shudder. It seems like Riddler demands your attention. His kisses, unlike Scarecrow’s, are quick and passionate – desperate even. He repeats them multiple times and only then his mouth finally lingers, gently sucking at your delicate skin.

At the same time, his gloveless hands start traveling your upper body, curiously exploring every fold of your clothing, from your stomach to your breasts.

As both of his thumbs simultaneously rub against your nipples, you break the kiss and tilt back your head, allowing yourself to let out a moan. You lean against the body behind you, and you can sense Edward’s lips curling into a smirk against your skin.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Edward,” Scarecrow lowers his voice. He sounds irritated as he offers Riddler a daring glare, ignoring your presence entirely. Somehow, you’re not afraid of this man anymore, your brain distracted by too many stimuli. You open your mouth, silently asking for another, long and sensual kiss. “I didn’t finish with her just yet,” the doctor warns, getting closer.

“Whatever you’re planning, I’m sure I will win,” Riddler grins back, fully convinced of his greatness. “Because, you see, I’m better than you. And I’m also ambidextrous.”

**Author's Note:**

> Requests for the other Rogues are open - please leave a comment!


End file.
